My eyes, glued to the scene. The dust of the debris invaded my nose. My hands wanted to prevent the sounds of the sirens and the cries, but I couldn’t move. 1,700 miles away from Oklahoma City, I was there only by the waves of the TV, but I had walked that place, breathed the same air as those people. “Oh God, no!”
Floors dangled, wires sparked, glass fell. “Did I know, by name or face, anyone in that building?”
Often, I reached for the phone but fear would not let me dial. So I stayed, stared and mesmerized as reality sank in.
Matthew 26:39“Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”
More times than I can count, I have asked God to “take this cup from me.” Change my path, decrease my burden, ease my suffering. No rest for the weary as the saying goes.
I find solace in the fact that, even Jesus, bowed before His father and begged him, not once, or even twice, but three times, to change the plan, redirect the path he was to tread. (Matt 26:44“So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.”)
As I am laying on the couch, my foot elevated above my heart, the doorbell rings. Once again I have to bite off and chew up my worldly pride (because it is way to big to just swallow whole). Another dear friend enters with another delicious meal prepared for my family due to the fact that my recent foot surgery has limited my abilities to thoroughly do so.
As deeply grateful as I am for every gal that prepared meals for the first 2 weeks after surgery, I am equally embarrassed and distraught that I can’t do it on my own. Ridiculous, I know. If anyone of them were in my position, I would completely do the same thing and help in anyway possible and not once would I ever think they were weak of character. However sick it may appear, I loathe depending on others. I want to be able to do it ALL myself. After all, even Jesus stated, 35 “It is more blessed to give than to receive. ” Unfortunately my perception of how to balance giving to receiving has been way off.
Hesitantly, he walks into the room full of youthful activity; balls bouncing, teen girls giggling, and the stench of sweaty boys fills the air. Loud music competes for the attention of all.
Glancing to the left he sees a huddle of teens. Panning the room, he sees established groups of kids going back and forth between their chosen activity and staring at their phone and intensely replying to a text, Facebook post, Instagram picture or whatever has drawn their attention away from the flesh and blood that stands before them.
Unnoticed by all, he bravely makes his way around the room, looking for an opportunity to “break into” the conversation or action. But his shyness and awkwardness hold him back. Courage fades and a sudden urge appears to find an excuse, any excuse to get out. The battle within himself rages and consumes his focus.
Today, once again, I found myself crumbling on my face before God. Not uncommon given the last couple years of our family life have been wrecked and emotionally turned upside down. All to familiar to me is this place of hopelessness and unanswered questions. A place of heart wrenching turmoil over the life of one of my dear children. Breath stopping anguish and pain settle in and so I do what I know I am suppose to. I pray. At least I try. But the more my mind searches for words, the more I realize they aren’t there. At least nothing new. No new clichés` or verses come to mind. But my prayers fade to thoughts, accusations maybe, or even fear that my prayers are nothing more than empty reciting of meaningless words. Continue reading
“You should create a blog, Teresa. You need to write more. Have you ever thought about putting your words into print?” Well, yes, I thought about it, many times. But never, ever would I have thought I was brave enough to actually do it. I mean, come on, I am a “nobody” in the eyes of the world. How can sharing my life’s emotional rollercoaster be of any use to anybody? People stand in grocery store lines, lingering around the tabloids, just to read the latest news of those who have achieved a “somebody” status. The most well known, the most talented or even the most notorious get their story told. But I’m not “anybody” in the eyes of our society. No one is going to see my name and curiously and anxiously wonder what I have to say next. I’m just simple, ordinary and relatively boring to most everyone most of the time. I’m “nobody” because most everybody hasn’t considered me to be “somebody.” But then I realized that I don’t have to be the “most” influential, “most” inspirational, “most” impactful or “most” anything to EVERYone… I only need to be those things to someONE. We are only truly a “nobody” if we don’t invest in SOMEBODY.
So, in spite of my fear that I will fail, in spite of my anxiety that no one will read it, or like it or comment kindly on it, I am creating a blog. (Even if I only have one known follower.) I am choosing to believe that the emotional journey of life that this “nobody” has experienced will eventually come to impact the life of somebody as I share my deepest hurts, pains, wounds and healings and how God has stayed the center of my focus through it all.